Now, I know what you’re saying, that Moss’ 29th was almost two years ago, and this is just an excuse for me to post girls in bikinis. Really though, it’s an excuse for me to post the name “Sum Poosie.” Also, “Social Butt-R-Fly.”

But(t) back to the girls. Here’s another photo of Santana with Social Butt-R-Fly’s founder, who could easily double as a Social Butt-R-Fly model:

JC’s obviously having a big year, but there aren’t many non-partisans who thought he was headed that way prior to the season. Count Geico among the believers.

During the broadcast of Skins domination in Philly, Fox played a new Geico spot starring Campbell and a Lumberg-esque agent. It was just OK for me, dawg, but the bigger picture is that a Redskins QB is the spokesman in a national advertising campaign, albeit one that also stars Joan Rivers and Peter Frampton. Campbell’s NFL.com Fantasy Files ad aside, I’m not sure that’s happened since the days of Joe Theismann, and, even then, I’m only guessing as he was such a natural. Just look at him.

As far as I can tell, Lacrosse is a sport for righteous dudes who smoke a lot of pot and aren’t very good at other sports. And American Indians. The former is why all my friends in high school played it. I’ve never understand the interest in lax, like, at all. It basically strips hockey off all its fun and interesting components and combines all of its most boring elements.

But apparently, I’m in the minority on this one because the Washington Post has decided the sport is important enough to warrant its own blog. It’s called The Fastest Blog on 2 Feet — which means absolutely nothing to me and, really, makes no sense — and includes such interesting tidbits as this one, which I lazily stole from the latest post on the site:

Frankly, this argument is as tired as the Duke fifth-year thing. To paraphrase the late author Raymond Chandler, I don’t yell at people who can’t hear me. The NCAA says Duke gets a fifth year. My editor says to use Foxborough. That’s enough for me.

Anyway, there was a barbeque for the participating teams and some media last night at the stadium. Apparently, Bill Belichick spoke at the barbeque and eschewed his normal attire and wore a pink tie.

Duuude, I know! Duke and their fucking five years. Who gets a fifth year? I mean, seriously. Bullshit, man. Fucking bullshit. Pink ties are the balls though, brah.

*By “new” I mean “new to me.” I’ve been told this blog is a couple months old. I’m shocked — shocked! — that I hadn’t already found it in my endless search for new lax blogs.

We still simply cannot figure out why the Skins used their third pick on wide receiver Malcom Kelly on Saturday after having already selected a WR and a receiving tight end. Whatever the reason for picking Kelly, we can no longer be too upset about it after seeing this video of him “freestylin'” (although it seems written) after Oklahoma won the Big 12 title back in ’06:

The only thing that concerns me is Kelly’s self-admitted chronic cough issue. It’s so bad that he apparently is forced to drink excessive amounts of prescription strength promethazine-codeine. It shouldn’t affect him on the field, however, as Kelly tends to only need his cough syrup when he’s steady tippin’ on 4-4s.
(Video via Littles, who’s putting CSN blogs on the map)

MJD is conducting Q&As with draft picks over at Shutdown Corner, and today’s subject, Georgia Tech RB Tashard Choice, is a gem. Read the interview, and dig this pregame speech that MJD dug up while researching:

Honestly, if Smash Williams had delivered that before a Dillon Panthers game it would have come off as too scripted. Touching and compelling, sure, but overly scripted. Since this was real-life though, it’s amazing.

Good stuff, Mr. Choice. Find yourself a happy home in the NFL this weekend.

So I’m at a wedding shower this weekend, talking to someone who just moved back to D.C. after four years in Hawaii. We’re back in the cut (as Wilbon used to say), watching the couple open gifts, when he says to me, “Do you want to hear a story?” I say, “Sure.” And he says:

“Hawaii is the melting pot of the Pacific. There are all of these different cultures there, and, in some of those cultures, the people eat dogs. So a few months back, this guy goes golfing at one of the best courses on the island. He plays alone, but he brings his dog with him, which he leaves tied up at the clubhouse with a bowl of water.

After playing 18, he comes back for the dog, but the dog is gone. He asks around, and someone tells him they saw two members of the grounds crew walking off with the pup. So this guy calls the police, and they go to the ground crew guys’ house, where they discover that these two dudes barbecued and ate the dog.

They didn’t wait around or anything. They saw a dog tied up with a water bowl (obviously somebody’s pet), stole it and threw it on the spit. The guy was devastated. Pressed charges and everything. It was a national story, dude. Saw it in USA Today.”

I had to Google Yahoo! that shit, and it checks out; almost exactly like my buddy says. The guy’s name is Frank Manuma and his dog was Caddy, an eight-month old German Shepherd-Lab mix. The perps stole Caddy, slaughtered and ate him, then disposed of the carcass in a river. They were eventually indicted on theft and animal cruelty charges, which means up to five years in prison and a $10,000 fine, or not enough.

In the never-ending debate between wearing one’s baseball pants high and tight vs. low and baggy, I’ve always sided with the former. Call me old fashioned, but I like my socks pulled high, my ball players fat, and my tobacco chewed.

But what I witnessed today during the Cubs-Brewers game could put an end to this debate forever. Prince Fielder has combined the best of both pant’s worlds (apologies for the poor quality; no WGN HD in Charlotte):

Note the excessively baggy, Manny Ramirez fitting pants hiked up above the knee akin to Ty Cobb, minus the bigotry. I searched through some old photos of Prince and couldn’t find any other examples of him sporting this look. I don’t get to see many Brewers games, so this could very well be a regular thing. In fact, I really hope it is.

The Carolina Blue fire truck tradition began in 1996 to commemorate the joint purchase of Engine 32 by the Town of Chapel Hill, UNC and UNC Hospital. Since then there have been several joint purchases of trucks and since the Carolina Blue truck was so well liked it was decided to convert the entire fleet.

My buddy Andy informs that the College Park FD does the same thing with their trucks to honor Maryland hoops, but I’m pretty sure he’s just confused.

Here’s yet another example of our stunted way of dealing with Maryland’s terrible loss to Clemson (though it may not be so terrible if they squeak into the NCAA Tournament) … by mocking Duke. Via the Turtle Sports Report message boards, it’s some dude giving Jon Scheyer the Scheyer Face:

Good form, my friend, got the double chin in there and everything. He even made a video about the encounter, though I prefer the still image, which makes it easier to mock the resort wear. I don’t care that they’re in Maui, or that he’s a Terps fan, jungle-themed silk shirts are out. Auf wiedersehen!

Despite showing some potential at the plate, Scott’s most notable moment in Houston might have come off the field when he raised some eyebrows during the 2006 season by talking about his license to carry a concealed weapon. Scott takes a .45 caliber handgun with him wherever he goes, a result of having a gun pulled on him early in his collegiate career.

Wait, he raised eyebrows for carrying a gun … in Texas? Admittedly, I’ve barely been to Texas, but my stereotype about Texans is that they carry small firearms and pocket bibles at all times. But maybe it isn’t just Texans Carig is referring to. A search for “luke scott guns” reveals a 2006 ESPN feature on athletes and guns starring, you guessed it, Luke Scott.

The piece is eyebrow-raising indeed, especially the anecdote about Scott flashing his piece at a beggar trying to get some drink at a Houston gas station. Imagine the kind of shit that’s gonna go down in Charm City, home of one of baseball’s worst teams and TV’s gangster-est program.